


Prison Service

by Ketlingr



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Bonding, Domesticity, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketlingr/pseuds/Ketlingr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You'll get used to it”, Tony added, shrugging. “Being human and all. Did they really take all your power?”, he asked, curious.<br/>This time, Loki did not reply – which in itself was answer enough.<br/>“Wow, that must sting”, Tony commented. After all that Loki had done, he felt he was entitled to a little teasing and joy over the other one's misery.<br/>“Tony, please”, Bruce said, his gentle being sympathizing with Loki. “He's supposed to learn to respect humans and you're doing a horrible job at being a respectable human being.”</p><p>This time it is Loki being sent to earth, stripped of his powers and to be watched closely by SHIELD. Unfortunately for all parties involved, Tony Stark finds out he has been left out and decides to take over the duty of watching the prisoner, to show him the delights of living a mortal life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really have any idea where this is going to go, or end up. I try/tried to be true to the characters as I perceive them, with some creative freedom to make the story possible. This is not an in-depth psychological protocol and the story is very likely not going to deal a lot with the psychological trauma implied by any of the involved characters' backstories. 
> 
> As long as this is a work in progress, I am open for suggestions and the like as well as critique or questions. :)
> 
> (Later edit: I realise now that the beginning of this story is *slightly* OOC for everyone involved, the whole setup and all. Maybe at some point I'll be persuaded to edit this out and revise, but for now I lack the spoons. For now, know that it gets better in chapter 2.)

# Frostiron-Fic

## Chapter One – Strange Awakening

 

Tony stirred, stretched and groaned before lazily opening half an eye. He was at home. That was good. It meant he could close his eyes again. It meant that most of the regular morning puzzle was solved and he did not have to find out why and how the hell he got to a run-down motel, some guy's bedroom or Steve Rogers' closet. It also meant he did not have to wonder about whom he had spent the night with, because he never brought people home. Not since he was in a relationship with Pepper.

Yawning, Tony rolled over to his side, his arms still stretched out before him as though he was trying to grab the rest of the night to be able to sleep some more. His girlfriend would freak out if she ever found one of his – oh god what was that? Groping the object his hands hat found, Tony frowned, but was still too lazy to actually look at what was in his bed. It was soft, but somehow it was hard, too. When he found two smaller, squishy objects embedded in it, realisation dawned on him. It was... a face. His touch became gentler, less exploratory.

“Oh, honey, I didn't even notice you joined me. How unusual... Good morning, Pepper,” Tony said, a smile on his face. He caressed her cheek. “You... you should... shave, love.”

“Yeah,” Pepper replied in a manly voice, sounding vaguely amused. “Mind telling me where the bathroom is?”

Finally, Tony guessed it was time to wake up properly. Something seemed... odd.

“Pepper, what happened to your voi – holy shit, Bruce! What the hell are you doing in my bed?!”

Tony had instantly retreated to his side of the bed, the covers slipping from his naked body to rest in a fluffy pile in his lap. Bruce Banner's eyes had followed them there and were now moving back up to Tony's face. It looked back – horrified, as far as Bruce could tell without his glasses on. Bestowing his sweetest, most innocent smile upon his friend, Bruce casually uncovered his own naked body and got out of bed.

“Why do you think I am here, Tony?” he asked, sounding like a teacher asking a maths question, while he put on his glasses and then started searching the room for his clothes.

“I... crap,” Tony said, only briefly wondering how they had even managed to do what he thought they had done, without his bedroom having been torn to pieces. Then he looked to the door, his eyes widening. He could hear her. “Crap,” he repeated, alarmed. “Jarvis, put him somewhere. Quickly,” he groaned. It was very rare that he had to use this part of the tower's design, but when he did use it, it was in times of danger – just like now.

Bruce had just enough time to frown at the bearded man, before he turned around at the sound of something being opened behind him.

“Locking me in a high-tech closet? Do you think that is wise?”

Tony 'shush'ed him and hurried through his bedroom, picking up all the clothes he could find. He threw them on a pile and swept them beneath his bed with his foot. Not a moment later, the door opened and his red-haired girlfriend smiled at him.

“You're up already?,” she asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah... yeah, obv- I am. I had this huge craving for Twinkies. Like, huge. Could you...?”

Puppy-eyeing her to the best of his abilities, while wrapping himself up in a blanket, Tony was relieved to see her shrug and nod.

“Fine,” she replied. She knew him well enough as not to be surprised by any odd wishes he came up with. There were quite a few of them every day, he was probably just starting early.

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, Tony and Pepper walked Bruce to the door.

“It was nice of you to stop by,” Pepper said, smiling.

“Yeah I'm... sorry it was so early,” Bruce replied, feeling awkward.

Pepper jabbed Tony's ribs with her elbow.

“Ou- right, I'll... call you. Later. Tomorrow. Good to see you again, Bruce. Bye.” And with that and an apologetic grin, he closed the door in his friend's face, glad that the awkward situation was over. Or so he thought. When he turned around, he found all the friendliness gone from his girlfriend's face. She glared at him and something told him that she was not happy with him.

Did she know? Sure, this morning she had come dangerously close to catching him with another man in his bed, but... it had only been close. She could not know about Tony's affairs, there was just no way for her to have found out about it. Or was there? Not sure what to do, Tony decided to play dumb.

He let his farewell-grin drop from his face and looked her in the eye.

“What did I forget?” he asked gravely.

While Pepper kept glaring at him, Tony watched her nostrils flare. He flinched when her hair swished into his eyes as she sharply turned and flounced out of the room in a huff. The chase was on and Tony knew it was not wise to keep her waiting. Sighing he grabbed himself a glass, filled it with a dark, strong-smelling liquid and followed her.

To his surprise, she was already on her way back to him, so he backed away as quickly as he had advanced, sensing danger. His back reached a wall and only a moment later, Pepper stood right in front of him, her face only an inch from his, glaring up at him.

“Anniversary,” she hissed, obviously unable to form sentences in her rage.

“What? Whose? When? Today?” Tony was glad she had not uncovered his little secret, however, he inwardly bit his own ass for forgetting someone's anniversary. Whose could it be? And why was Pepper so angry about it? Was it... her parents'? Had they planned on going to some sort of anniversary party? Was that it? It couldn't possibly be their own that had been... recently. Hadn't it?

“It's still early, we can still go? No, wait, it's... it's ten in the morning, we can't... be late for a party, that's stupid...”

Pepper's expression changed from anger to disbelief.

“It's our anniversary, you idiot. Two years? Not only did we plan on a romantic day, starting with a romantic breakfast, no. The first thing you do in the morning is to send me get some stupid snack for you. And you don't stop there, do you? Instead of getting rid of your lover before I return, you make us share breakfast and act like he just happened to drop by?”

Stunned, Tony stared at her.

“How do you -”

“How do I know about him?” Pepper interrupted him. “He was in your bed, Tony. It's pretty hard to slip into your boyfriend's bed at night without noticing that your spot is occupied. And I was wondering why you insisted on separate beds.” Her voice was so venomous that Tony flinched. He did not know what to say. And, strangely, he did not feel like he wanted to say anything, either, because he knew that anything he could say to her would just make things worse.

 

* * *

 

The reason Tony was getting drunk that night was not that he was single for the first time in two years. It was not that he missed Pepper. It was that he hated himself for having hurt her. He had known their relationship was not going to last forever, but he had not been able to break up with her before, even though he had felt like it for quite a while now. He had known it would hurt her – but to have her go like this, to have her find out about his affairs... Tony knew he was the bad guy in this play. Well, he thought as a cute blonde girl very openly checked him out, at least he was a good looking bad guy.

Tony had never thought of himself as a villain. He was a hero after all, he was Iron Man, he saved people – even though he was a little reckless while doing so, now and again. Drinking himself into a better mood, Tony's thoughts revolved around how to appease Pepper.

 

* * *

 

“Do you think it worked?,” the voice at the other end of the line asked.

“Well, I hope so. _She_ said it did.” 

“Well, bring him here then.”

“I'll try,” Bruce replied grimacing and hung up. What an impatient prick, he thought. However, he did not really care. He was looking forward to his 'job' and did not mind hurrying.

“Well, hello there,” he greeted and approached his target – a slightly drunk Tony Stark, hunched over the club's bar, drink in hand. That poor guy seemed to beat himself up over what he did to Pepper quite badly.

Tony looked up, then down at his drink, then up at Bruce again.

“This... is not a place I would have suspected you to be at,” Tony said honestly.

“I'm afraid I can't say the same of you,” Bruce said and smiled at the other, who was not known for his abstinence of alcoholic substances – and, if some sources were to be believed, other kinds of substances.

“What's the occasion?,” Bruce asked, even though he knew. “You don't look like you're celebrating.”

Tony growled something and set down his glass. He was not going to talk to Bruce about Pepper. But, while he was here, Tony could just as well take advantage of his new-found single life. He was just about to suggest something openly sexual, when Bruce cut him short.

“You know, how about we go to my place and talk about it there? You were right, this is not my favourite kind of environment.” A shrug, a nod – and Tony left the club, following Bruce outside.

 

* * *

 

Pacing the hallway, the tall, dark-haired man kept glaring at the clock, as though it was the object's fault that time was passing so slowly. Had the clock hand not moved occasionally, he would have thought the thing was not working. Huffing angrily, the man tried to calm himself down. It was not like he was actually angry – it was closer to an anxious impatience. But an emotion like that would make him seem weak and he did not want to appear weak when his guest arrived. Then again, he had no idea how exactly he wanted to appear instead. Charming, perhaps. Inviting. Just a little intimidating maybe, mysterious and powerful. Sexual, but not to offensively so.

When the doors to his abode finally opened, a wide, cat-like smile spread across his face, combining all the appearances he had intended and several more. He opened his arms, approaching his guest with slow, deliberate steps. The way he moved he seemed as though he owned the whole world. He was practically emitting power.

The obvious confusion on his guest's face when the visitor realised who stood before him broadened the host's smile into a smug, mischievous grin.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice a gentle breeze.

“You?” the visitor said, throwing a confused at the man who had brought him here.

“Bruce, what... I thought he was under supervision? Didn't you say we'd go to your place? Wait, you're not... are... are you living here? With him?!”

“He is under supervision,” Bruce defended himself, shrugging lightly and smiling apologetically.

“And you two are being rude,” their host reminded them.

“Fury was... not sure whether it was wise to tell you about his exact location and the circumstances of his uh... confinement and supervision.” There was more to this visit, Tony felt it, but he was too busy being mad at Fury for asking. He would find out soon enough, he guessed.

Tony followed the two other men down the short hallway towards what turned out to be a nice, modern living room. It had a dark, wooden flooring and plain, white walls, the dark wood recurring in the furniture, accentuating the forest green of the seating.

“Classy,” Tony commented, giving an approving nod. “Was that his idea?” Tony nodded at the tall man behind Bruce.

“Hardly,” the pale figure snorted, an unbefitting noise for his lordly demeanour.

“He does not... deal with these kinds of things. They are-”

“- beneath me,” Bruce was interrupted. He shrugged it off.

“I thought the colours suit him,” he admitted.

“I never thought you much of an interior designer,” Tony remarked, a hint of mockery in his tone.

“Me neither. I tend to break things rather than arrange them,” he paused, then rubbed his hands and pointed towards the back of the room where an open kitchen lay in darkness. “Drinks, anyone?” he asked and when the other men nodded, he hurried off to serve them.

Meanwhile, Tony dropped himself onto one of the armchairs uninvited, his legs dangling over the arm-rest on one side. He wondered if this looked as comfortable as it felt, then looked up at the tall man, who moved over to sit on the couch.

“So, Loki,” Tony said in a casual tone. “How's the exile?”

 


	2. No Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has been sent to earth, stripped of his powers and he is to be watched closely by SHIELD. Unfortunately for all parties involved, Tony Stark finds out he has been left out and decides to take over the duty of watching the prisoner, to show him the delights of living a mortal life.

“So, Loki”, Tony said in a casual tone. “How's the exile?”

Loki shot him a glare that was so venomous he almost flinched. A grin spread across his face, villain or not, Tony liked Loki. Being the lying man that he was, Loki was still the most honest person Tony had ever met, never trying to hide his true nature – or at what he perceived to be such. The only man Tony knew coming close to that was Bruce. Maybe it was fitting that the two had ended up together – and at least one of them did not seem to mind.

“It is dull”, Loki said, surprising Tony, who had not expected being dignified with a reply.

“He refuses to use the television”, Bruce explained, setting a golden tray down on the coffee table, having balanced three glasses and a bottle on it. He even matched the dishes, Tony thought, smirking at the tray.

“It is beneath me”, Loki spat. “All of this. I will not be concerned with your silly little gadgets.”

“You will have to, if you don't wish to die of boredom”, Tony said, raising an eyebrow at the man's wilful behaviour. Loki seemed a lot more like a sulking child now than a high-born god-prince. “You'll get used to it”, Tony added, shrugging. “Being human and all. Did they really take all your power?”, he asked, curious.

This time, Loki did not reply – which in itself was answer enough.

“Wow, that must sting”, Tony commented. After all that Loki had done, he felt he was entitled to a little teasing and joy over the other one's misery.

“Tony, please”, Bruce said, his gentle being sympathising with Loki. “He's supposed to learn to respect humans and you're doing a horrible job at being a respectable human being.”

Tony turned to look at him in a mocking display of shock and disbelief.

“My dear friend... I am the most respectable, lovable-”

“My ass”, Bruce interjected and they grinned at each other like little boys. Ever since they had worked together for the Avengers, they had shared a strange kind of friendship, holding each other's personalities in balance.

“But seriously now, Tony. We came here to talk, so... talk.”

Raising an eyebrow, the addressed looked over at Loki, who stared back for a moment, then gave in.

“Fine! I'll leave you two to it”, he sighed, got up and gracefully wafted away to his room. Once he was sure Loki was out of earshot, the living room door closed behind him, Tony began speaking.

“It's Pepper... we... kind of broke up”, he said. Bruce nodded sympathetically.

“Does that surprise you?”, he replied, his voice giving away that he was not.

Tony shook his head. It was this kind of common sense and universal sympathy so innate to Bruce that had Tony decide against talking to him about this earlier. Tony wanted to roll around in shame and self-pity, not learn from his mistakes.

“Of course it doesn't surprise me, it's just... I never wanted to hurt her. That's why I had the affairs in the first place, I didn't want to break up with her”, he explained.

“Well... talk to her?”, Bruce suggested, knowing very well that Tony was horrible at talking about things that made him uncomfortable. He had found himself to be an exception to this rule, having become Tony's confidant.

“No. No that's... actually... now that you mention it, could I maybe... stay here for a while? Pepper's probably still at my place and I'd... like to avoid running into her.” And he did not want to rush her out of the house, either. He wanted her to stay, knowing he would be lost without her, even though he was not in love with her anymore. He depended on her. And Bruce knew that just as well as Tony did.

“Sure. We don't have a guest room, but you could crash on the couch”, he offered. “Excuse me...” He rummaged in his right pocket and pulled out his mobile phone, which vibrated in his hand. It stopped before Bruce touched it. Text message, Tony guessed, waiting for Bruce to finish.

The latter smirked at the phone's display.

'Yes. I think it worked', he typed, then hit send.

* * *

“So, what do you do all day?”, Tony asked. They had just finished a rather quiet breakfast and now Loki had locked himself in the bathroom for his morning routine.

“Well, I read my newspaper while he's in the bathroom making himself... pretty. And I found he enjoys playing chess, so we do that a lot. I have found little else that is not, you know, 'beneath him'. He really is a difficult person.”

“You should take him outside now and again, show him the more enjoyable sides of being human”, Tony suggested.

“I can't. He's not allowed to leave the apartment. If he sets as much as a foot outside, the headquarters will be alarmed immediately. Powers or no powers, Fury seems to think he is dangerous.”

Tony laughed. “What's he supposed to do? Glare people to death? Tell people how much they are beneath him? They'd probably lock him up somewhere. I say he has as much a right as anyone to enjoy himself and have some fun.”

“Yes”, Bruce nodded, “and that is exactly why you are not the one watching him. Fury considers you and Loki a 'dangerous mixture, especially when left unattended'.”

“His exact words”, Tony guessed and his friend nodded again.

* * *

Loki flinched when Tony's head popped up above him. He had lain down on the couch, staring at the ceiling for lack of better things to do – and suddenly there was this bearded, curious face, blinking down at him.

“Yes?”, Loki asked, just barely raising an eyebrow.

“Asgard”, Tony said, standing up and thus removing his face from Loki's immediate field of vision. “What's it like?”

Loki sat up, taking his time to think of an answer.

“It... is beautiful”, he finally said and Tony was about to make a disappointed face, when he went on speaking. “It's a gigantic castle, made up of the twelve palaces of the gods and it is surrounded by impregnable walls. It is made of gold.” There was a sense of longing in Loki's voice, mingled with quiet contempt. As much as he wanted to return home, he hated his people for what they had made him.

Tony sat down besides Loki and nodded.

“You know, it sounds... unreal. Which is not to say I don't believe you it's just... very hard to imagine a place like that. A castle made of gold. Here on earth, this is what children hear about in fairy tales, along with unicorns and magic.” Tony shrugged. “That sort of thing.”

“I understand”, Loki folded his hands and looked down at them resting on his legs. “I am – I used to be able to cast spells and generally... 'do magic'.” He shot a side glance at the bearded man next to him. “I would use it to play tricks on the other gods, gave them a little scare or made them chase things that did not exist. There is not much to do in a golden palace, if one does not like looking at golden walls.”

Surprised by Loki's openness, Tony found he was genuinely interested in what the Asgardian had to say. Life in a society of gods, in a world so far away and different from the one he knew – Tony wanted to absorb every detail he could get his hands on.

“Why not spend your time with the other gods instead of pranking them?”

Loki gave a bleak smile.

“They were not particularly fond of me. Most of them were friends with my elder brother and I must admit I always had a thing for mischief, if you want to put it that way. I was not as strong as my brother, not as reckless or adventurous. I studied magic, while he learned to fight. They chose to follow him, while they distrusted me, because I could do things they could not understand. Sometimes-” Loki stopped abruptly when Bruce, who had been in his room, entered the living room.

Tony made a mental note about that. While he himself found Bruce to be a trustworthy person, to Loki he was the prison ward, sympathetic or not. However, Tony did not know or understand why the Asgardian had chosen to open up to him instead.

* * *

Hunched over a large glass chess board, Tony frowned at the delicate chess figures. He moved one, then tapped the chess clock and watched Loki make his move. They sat in silence, their thoughts taking up too much space to fit in actual words. Just a few moves later, Tony leaned back grinning.

“Checkmate. Again”, he said, folding his arms before his chest. His words had popped their bubble of intimate silence and relieved some of the tension in the room.

Loki frowned at the chess board, then sighed and shook his head.

“I'll be damned, you're good”, he said, sounding surprised.

“What, you didn't notice that the last five times I beat you?”, Tony asked, smirking. “It wasn't easy though, I'll give you that.”

“Another one”, Loki practically commanded. “I will beat you this time.”

Tony doubted it, but he shrugged and only a few minutes later, they were playing again, immersed in silence. For the past few days, they had played countless times, effectively excluding Bruce – who did not seem to mind all that much, though. Loki had managed to beat Tony now and again, but that was more the exception from the rule.

Tony was about to win again, when voices intruded into their realm of eternal quiescence. One of them was Bruce Banner's – but it was the other one that caused Tony to avert his attention from the game and turn around. What on earth was she doing here? And not only was she here, but Bruce led her straight towards Tony, who was slowly but surely starting to panic. What could this be about? Was she angry? Would she want to-

“Hey, Tony. Loki”, the young woman greeted the two of them and both men nodded at her.

“Virginia.”

“Pepper...” Tony's voice was a mix of pain and anxiety, as though he was awaiting something very unpleasant to happen. “What exactly are you...”, he turned to face Bruce, “... is she doing here?” A hint of 'are you trying to get me killed?' resonated in his words.

Bruce opened his mouth, then closed it. Loki did his best to look perfectly uninvolved. And Pepper just looked surprised.

“I came to visit you. You haven't been home in a couple of days, so I thought I'd... check on you”, she explained, as though that was the normal thing to do after a break up. Tony shook his head in disbelief.

“You what? Aren't you... angry?” He looked at her as though she was an experiment in the process of not only going wrong, but going against all principles of science.

“Wait, you haven't told him?”, Pepper asked, surprised, her eyes darting back and forth between the three man. “You... oh great. Just... great”, she sighed. “I'm not angry. I wasn't angry.” Tony frowned at her. If this was a joke, any part of it, it was a terrible one.

“Tony, I knew. I knew about your... affairs right from the start, you're really horrible at hiding things. I was hurt at first, I was so mad at you and then I was sad and... then I just accepted it. I've waited for you to end our relationship, but you didn't.”

“I explained to her why”, Bruce jumped in when Pepper fell silent. “She knew we're close friends and I know you well enough to know you stayed with her to protect her. I was actually surprised she did not think of that herself, you must have a horrible way of showing your affection if she did not see how important she is to you.”

Pepper and Tony both blushed and the red-haired woman quickly cut Bruce short.

“So, I knew you wouldn't break up with me, but I also knew we could not go on like this any longer, I had to move on and you had to have the chance to do the same without having to hide it. So I... kind of set this up with Bruce.”

Tony frowned at all three of them, Loki raising his hands as though to say: I didn't do it, don't look at me!

“And you couldn't just tell me?”, he asked Pepper, still frowning.

“I...”, her face turned red. “I wanted you to feel bad about it so you'd learn your lesson. You hurt me, Tony, even if it was some time ago, and I wanted you to know that, so you wouldn't do it again, not to me, nor to anyone else you'll ever be with.”

“You're not my mother, you don't have to teach me things”, Tony said petulantly, but he knew she had been right to do so. “So, what... why all this? Why... bring me here?” He looked at Bruce. “Is this still part of the plan or are you just trying to get it on with me?”

“Oh, no. Not me. See, Loki here isn't entirely innocent in all this”, Bruce said, gesturing towards the pale man with his open hand. Tony cocked his head at Loki. For a moment, everyone was staring at the dark-haired god, then he cracked and threw his hands in the air in resignation.

“Fine! We... we have a bond.”

“A bond.”

“You're a wilful person. Quite... impressively... handsome. And self-confident. Assertive.”

Tony gave a sceptical chuckle.

“Are you trying to say you like me?”, he asked, his eyes resting on the taller man.

Loki pursed his lips. “You're still human. You're beneath me. I just thought that now... you are... not as much beneath me as before. Anyway, this is a private matter.” And with that he whirled around and marched off to his room.

“Oh my god... I think he's lonely”, Tony mumbled, astonished by his realisation.

  
  



	3. Drinking Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time it is Loki being sent to earth, stripped of his powers and to be watched closely by SHIELD. Unfortunately for all parties involved, Tony Stark finds out he has been left out and decides to take over the duty of watching the prisoner, to show him the delights of living a mortal life.

“You heard me, Tony, I have to leave. It's... personal, but it's important. I can assure you that there are only very few things that are important enough to abandon my post here and leave you of all people in charge of watching Loki.”

Tony frowned, looking almost insulted by Bruce's words.

“I can handle this”, he muttered.

“Whatever you do, Tony, don't let Fury notice I'm gone.”

“How stupid do you think I am?”, Tony asked, shaking his head. “Everything will be fine, I can handle Loki, we'll have a lot of fun.”

“Which is exactly what I'm concerned of. You can't even handle yourself, Tony. Try to... be responsible. Please. For once.”

* * *

Since Pepper's visit two days ago, Loki had avoided Tony, who himself had guessed it was better to let Loki approach him on his own than to force contact and conversation onto him. Now that they were going to spend some time alone, however, Tony guessed he could... help things progress a little. If Loki decided to keep making himself scarce, the next couple of days were going to be awfully boring for Tony. Having learned about Loki's habits during his stay at the apartment, Tony had developed a plan to make Loki talk to him – if not about anything interesting, at least about where Tony hid his favourite breakfast cereals or that one book he had started reading lately.

It was an amusing fact that Loki had grown fond of a certain brand of cereals. Tony had bought them for himself, although he did not care much about using one or the other type and Loki had tried them, although sceptical, and had grown to love them. Now, he was not having anything else for breakfast.

The book that had struck him as most interesting confusingly was the Bible. He found it oddly entertaining. Tony wondered how he had even come across it – somebody had probably thought it funny to use it as decoration material for the god's apartment.

Just as he had predicted, the morning after Bruce had left, Loki searched the kitchen for his cereal. Tony watched him with a suppressed smirk, while Loki turned everything upside down to have breakfast.

“Where did you put them?”, Loki asked, surprisingly close to the script Tony had made of the conversation in his mind.

“Where did I put what?”, he asked back.

“My Ca-”, the Asgardian had almost let the silly brand name slip, but he knew better than provoke that grin onto Stark's face. “The little colourful things one puts in milk.”

“Why would I-”

“Cut it out, Stark, I know you have taken them, now tell me where they are. You can't fool me. And I know you have taken my book, as well. You are not the only one watching people, Stark.”

Tony, to Loki's apparent surprise, just shrugged and handed over the Bible, which he had simply hidden in his lap under the table. He then went over to the cabinet in the living room to fetch the box.

Loki had started talking to him again, which meant that the awkward period after his emotional statement had passed. As they were back to their usual banter and hopefully soon to informative conversation about their respective lives, Tony had no reason to bully Loki any longer. Which, of course, did not mean he would stop it entirely.

After breakfast, the two men returned to their routine of playing chess, before Loki retreated to his room to read. It was not until the evening that he asked for another game. They played in silence, sharing a bottle of wine. However, as Loki was not used to the human body's reaction to alcohol, their games of chess ended once the bottle had been emptied, to be replaced by conversation.

Loki had lain down on the sofa, while Tony sat on the other end, Loki's feet in his lap. His own feet rested on the coffee table. Loki talked of Asgard, he shared stories of his pranks and both men laughed a lot, enjoying each other's company. It was not until the hangover Loki experienced in the morning that he decided alcohol was a bad thing and at least that part of the night before had been a mistake. However, it had served him to have somewhat of a closer relationship to Tony. To the god, their bond was very clear and maybe it was spending time together that would make it apparent to Tony.

It was this train of thought that led Loki to allow Tony to treat him to a bottle of fine apricot schnaps just three days later. One bottle soon became another and after a while, the two of them lay on the living room floor, closer to each other than Tony would have allowed had he been sober.

“... and his friends would chase me through the streets. They rarely ever caught me, but I was terrified each time they got close. Sometimes, when they cornered me and started calling me names, Thor would call them off. But he was not always with them.”

Tony nodded, staring at the ceiling just as Loki did.

“I don't have siblings. Sometimes I wished I had, it would have... given me someone to talk to, I guess. I had my mother, though. I liked her a lot when I was a boy.”

“Yeah”, Loki mumbled. “I like mine, too... I mean, she's... not really my mother. But she has been as close to a mother as anyone could ever have been.”

Again, Tony nodded.

“It's... sad but, I don't even remember much of my mom. I wasn't that young when my parents died, but... I... I remember a lot about my father and barely a thing about her. What's... what's your father like, Loki? Odin, I mean. What's a powerful god like him like?”

Loki kept quiet for a while, lost in his thoughts.

“He... tells great stories”, Loki said. 'He is a liar', he meant.

“He does not like to be disappointed. But he never made it easy not to disappoint him. And Odin is... he is a real king, power and honour are just natural for him. He has a lot of charisma... even when he says nothing, it just takes a look of his to let you know that you are just not enough, that you messed up somehow, that he is wary of you...” Loki realised how worked up he had become and forced himself to unclench his fists. “What was your dad like, Stark? I assume real fathers are different? If you have so many memories of him, he must have been a great man.”

Now it was Tony who fell silent.

“My father... was... a great man”, he then said, bitterness in his voice. “And his expectations were great, too. Whenever I saw him he was either drunk or hungover, trying to get drunk again. He was violent and loud and disappointed.”

Loki woke up first, bright sunlight heating up the spot on the floor where he had fallen asleep. He did not mind the soreness of his body or the ache in his head much, because he remembered last night and was now looking down on a sleeping Tony, right next to him on the floor. Loki smiled. If the nights were going to be like this from now on, he did not mind spending his time on earth as much as he had thought. No matter how sad their conversation had been, Loki was certain it had brought them closer together. It was the first time Tony had shared something personal with him – something Loki felt he had not shared with many people before.

Letting the other man sleep, Tony just lay there, his head propped up on one hand, watching him.

* * *

It was an ordinary check up, even though it was unscheduled. Unlocking the front door with his own key card, the tall, cloaked man stepped inside the apartment. Nobody seemed to notice his entrance – maybe they were busy, finally having found a way to occupy Loki's time.

“... and then... and then he lost his pants!”

It was Loki's voice coming from the living room, followed by laughter. When he pushed the door open, Fury recognized the second voice with horror.

“The look on his face must've been priceless!”, Stark mused, unaware of the visitor that had stepped into the living room. It was Loki who noticed Fury first, who himself was looking down on the two drunk men. Loki and Tony Stark were leaning against the wall, a bottle with alcoholic content resting between them.

“I was expecting to see Bruce Banner with you.” Fury skipped any formal greeting and addressed Loki directly.

“He is...”

“... on vacation!”, Tony finished Loki's sentence for him and both men grinned at each other, as though Tony had just told a marvellous joke. Fury, however, did not appear to be amused. He stared at Stark, expecting the other to give a more elaborate – and truthful – explanation of Banner's whereabouts.

“Relax, all is well, the prisoner is still here, we did not burn the city down...” - “Yet”, Loki interjected - “... and Bruce put me in charge! We're doing fine!” Tony shrugged.

Still, Fury seemed to be far from amused.

“Mister Banner was supposed to watch our guest. Where. Is. He?”

“Hell if I know... He said he had to leave. He also told me not to let you notice, it's not exactly his fault that you did. I've been watching Loki, -”

“It is not your job to watch Loki, Stark. You were not involved in this for a reason. I would prefer to have someone watch you, too, Stark, but I fear we are too understaffed to accommodate your desire to cause trouble. I will have you removed and I will find qualified personnel to guard Loki, until then”, he made a dramatic pause, “I will not leave here and you two will sober up.”

“Wow. That sounds like fun”, Tony groaned and made a show of rolling his eyes at the towering man.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... so far this has mostly been going according to plan. And that's also basically all of the plan I had, so it's going to be a blind ride from here on out. Hold on tight, I can not guarantee this will end pleasantly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Kind of a depressing chapter. Also, dealing with depression, thoughts of self-harm.
> 
> Starting or immediately following the New Year's Eve part of this chapter, I recommend listening to "You were a House on Fire" by Listener. It fit my mood after writing this part, and I kind of liked it, so maybe you'll do, too... :) Have fun reading, I'm sorry already.

* * *

Tony had no idea how, but Bruce Banner had managed to persuade Fury to let Tony stay with Loki. There was, however, the premise that there was going to be no more alcohol involved and that there was always at least one  _ proper _ adult around. Tony was too glad to mind the mockery.

He and Loki found ways to retreat from whoever was babysitting them. Most of the time it was Bruce anyway, who gladly let them have some privacy. However, as the apartment only had so many rooms, and sometimes there were more people than just Bruce, one day Loki decided to invite Tony into his room. During the months he had spent on earth now, nobody had been allowed inside and he had been granted discretion.

Now that Tony set foot in his sanctum, the Asgardian felt nervous, while Tony himself felt more honoured than he was going to admit. He also kind of felt like he was trespassing, invading and somehow desecrating whatever home Loki had built himself, even though the other had let him inside willingly.

There was not much to be seen at first. A bed, a desk, two chairs, a closet and a book shelf. Everything was orderly and clean, it looked almost unused. But then Tony took in the details. The room smelled of Loki – and pleasantly so. There was the Bible neatly placed next to the bed, a strip of paper marking the spot Loki had stopped reading. There were drawings on the desk, pencil drawings stacked up and a started one next to it. Pictures of what Tony assumed was Asgard. But what struck Tony more, was the one thing that did not fit in. It was so small, but it was obvious like a painted elephant and Tony wondered why he had not noticed it the moment he had stepped into the room.

There was one sheet that seemed as though it had been quickly pushed beneath the stack of drawings. It was not properly aligned with them, the edges poking out on all four sides, one of them showing what Tony guessed was hair. A portrait, he thought. The paper seemed worn, as though the picture had passed many hands – or one pair of hands, repeatedly. Something Loki liked to look at.

The paper was the same, Steve Rogers had brought it over, as well as the pencils, to give Loki something to do. Even if he did not like Loki he was still a good man, Tony thought. The paper was the same, but judging by what little he could see, the drawing style was not. The difference was so obvious that even though Tony did not have a clue about art, he could see it. The portrait was drawn in deliberate, confident strokes, while Loki's drawings had something faint, something vague to them, they were pale, like a half-thought memory, a half-remembered song. As though Loki was afraid that if he pictured whatever he was drawing to clearly, it was going to be there and the only thing worse than not seeing it would be to see it clearly.

* * *

New Year's Eve. It was freezing cold on the roof top where Tony stood, his arms wrapped around himself to shield himself from the cold. How he had managed to get on top of here without anyone noticing still defied his understanding. How he had managed to bring Loki along with him even more so.

The Asgardian seemed surprised by how much the cold got to him. However, his face was stoic, as though his shivering did not give him away. Tony could not help but smirk. He had would have offered Loki his coat, but on the one hand, Loki was just as stubborn as Tony himself and he would never have accepted it and on the other hand, without his coat, Tony would have been cold.

Loki's eyes took in the scenery, the whole city lying beneath them, illuminated, everyone waiting for the year to end and the next one to start. Dying and being reborn – that was what the people of this city were used to. There were still signs of the fights, of the alien attack, that had shook them, changed their lives.

“It's amazing”, Loki said. He could see the Stark-Tower from here, although it no longer said 'Stark'. He remembered standing on top of it, seeing the city from a different perspective, both literally and figuratively. Somehow, the memory pained him.

“It's amazing”, he repeated, “how these people just pick themselves up. After everything that happened.”

“After everything you've done”, Tony reminded him, frowning. They had never talked about that particular 'incident', had danced around the subject carefully, avoiding every and any mention of it. But now Loki nodded, gravely.

“After everything I did”, he agreed.

“You seem surprised, though. What did you think would happen? That nobody would fight back? That things were not going to go on, even if you failed?” Tony was surprised of the lack of accusation in his words. And so was Loki, even though he was not going to admit it.

“I... may have misjudged their stubbornness.”

Tony gave a huff of laughter and Loki smirked.

“Trying to subdue humankind is an unfeasible ambition, it's an unachievable goal. We are stubborn. We will always fight back. We will always start over. And right now, you're a part of us, Loki. Maybe this is what you were sent to see, to understand.” Tony's expression was grim for a moment, then he looked at Loki and it softened.

Loki was thinking. Considering, remembering – Tony could almost see the thoughts being moved around in his head. Heavy thoughts, painful images, strong emotions and dark desires. At some point he seemed to come to a conclusion, still unaware that Tony was watching him intently, like he was trying to read him.

“What if I tried again?”, Loki asked, but there was no intent in his voice, just a faint curiosity.

“I would stop you”, Tony replied. Loki accepted his words, apparently having anticipated them.

“What if I take another thing that I would like?”

Tony considered it. He was someone to take what he wanted as well, to a certain point.

“Would it hurt someone?”, he asked.

“It would certainly hurt”, Loki replied without hesitation, but with a sad, almost pained tone to it.

“Then I would stop you.”

“What if I gave something back in return?”

“Like a trade?”, Tony asked, raising an eyebrow at that. Loki had not seemed like the person to trade. However, Loki nodded and Tony thought about it, letting his eyes graze over the city. “Would it hurt both sides?”, he asked, his mind coming up with a suspicion.

“It would certainly hurt”, Loki repeated softly.

“Then... I would stop you.”

“What if you can't? What if it is too late?”

“I would certainly hurt.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and cold, almost creating a physical barrier, until Loki's hand found Tony's and somehow the cold became part of them, no longer separating them, but cloaking them, hiding them from view as they moved closer to each other, so close that their lips touched. And they stayed close like this until the first fireworks lit up the sky around them.

“Happy new year”, Tony said, but it were hollow words, because they both knew that there was a storm coming and whatever was going to result from it was not going to be a happy year.

* * *

“Where have you been?”

“On the roof.”

“What part of 'He's not supposed to leave the apartment' did you not understand, Stark?”

“Oh please, it's not like he could have gone anywhere, he's a goddamn human right now. He didn't jump off the building, he didn't call an alien army and he did nothing else to try and conquer the world, would you chill the fuck out?”, Tony snapped and glared at Fury, who glared back. It was a staring match that under any other circumstances Tony Stark would have lost. But not tonight. It seemed to go on for an eternity or two, but finally Fury turned around with a frustrated noise. The tension that had built between them was in no way gone.

“This will have consequences, Stark”, Fury announced, before he stormed out of the room. Both Bruce and Loki knew better than to talk to Tony now and busied themselves until Tony, too, left the room.

By the time he came back, it was almost noon. To everyone's surprise – especially his own – Tony was sober. Although he had intended to get himself a drink, and not just leave it at one, he had ended up wandering through the streets of the city, trying to clear his mind. When he had finally decided to return to the apartment, it was to speak with Loki.

“Where is he?”, he asked Bruce, who was leaning against the wall close to the entrance door, as though he had been waiting for Tony's return. There were other people in the room but Tony did not even take notice of them. A bad feeling crawled into his mind, a suspicion that something was very, very wrong.

“Where is he”, he repeated, but it was not a question, it was a demand, almost a plea for Loki to be save, to be where Tony had left him.

“Home”, Bruce said and a part of Tony told him he was supposed to be relieved to know that Loki was home, in his apartment, but the relief would not come.

“Home where?”

Bruce hesitated.

“ _ HOME WHERE? _ ”, Tony yelled.

“Asgard.” It was not Bruce speaking, but Fury, whose presence Tony had not even noticed before. The word was quiet, almost gently spoken, but it hit Tony like a blow to the chest. Without thinking, he charged at Fury, only to find himself held back by – to his mild surprise – Steve Rogers and Clint Barton.

Tony wished he was yelling insults at Fury, but he did not find the words. All that escaped him was an angry snarl, not unlike the sound a wounded animal would make and he struggled against the hands that held him back.

“It was not my decision, Stark”, Fury said.

“Liar.”

“Thor”, Bruce said and Tony turned his glare at him, “Thor came and took him home. They must have... ended his exile.” Judging by the confusion in his voice, Bruce did not know exactly what had happened or why. If Fury knew, he was not going to tell anyone.

“They can't have”, Tony objected, but he knew the claim was without reason or anything else to support it. Nonetheless, it repeated in his mind, over and over again. He felt both Clint and Steve let go of him and take a cautious step back and realised how childish he was behaving. He was acting like a love-sick teenager and was aware that his emotional outburst had gone far from unnoticed. What on earth had gotten into him?

There was nothing else he could say, nothing to make himself look less... stupid, especially to himself. Now, he decided, was an excellent time for a drink.

* * *

“I'm not going to keep a diary. What am I, a twelve-year-old little girl?”, Tony complained and tossed the small black book on the couch. It came to rest with the sound of slap – and Steve looked as though Tony had, indeed, slapped him in the face. He caught himself, glad that Tony had turned his back to him and was focused on his work again, and nodded.

“Sure. Sorry. That was a stupid idea”, Steve said, turning on his heel to leave the workshop. He did not wait to hear if Tony had anything else to say. It would not have been anything meaningful anyway, because had that stubborn man been willing to talk to anyone about whatever was going on in his head, Steve would not have suggested him telling it to a book at least.

It had been weeks since Loki had been taken home and none of them had been given any more information about the incident of Loki's return to Asgard. Steve and Bruce had taken temporary residency at Tony's place for a job they were working on together. Had they not stayed here, none of them would have known about the state Tony was in.

He was acting professional during the occasional team meetings, but when he felt unobserved he looked exhausted. Barely leaving his workshop and judging by the look of him barely sleeping, everything about him was screaming that something was wrong. And part of what this was about was obvious, especially to Bruce who had lived with Tony and Loki for the past months, but there was more to it. There was an exhaustion to Tony's whole form that was more than just him being lovesick – as weird of a term that was when used on Tony Stark, Steve thought.

When Steve had left the workshop, slowly taking the stairs back to the living quarters, he let out a deep, frustrated sigh. With as much hope as he could muster, he wished for Tony to reconsider the small, black book that was still sitting on the couch.

* * *

_ What do you do when you know you're going to do something stupid?  _

Not like some stupid psychic vision of how you're going to lose your car keys somewhere or forget to buy the milk, but something really, utterly stupid. Like picking up a bad habit. Like drowning yourself in alcohol until your breath is flammable. Like hurting yourself.

What if you keep thinking of those things, considering the possibility like others would consider buying that new pair of pants they saw? Rationally thinking about it – or at least in a way that feels rational. And knowing full well that it's a stupid idea, whatever you're thinking about, but that doesn't make it less appealing – maybe, it even makes the whole thing more appealing.

For me, I wouldn't call those thoughts obsessive. Recurring maybe. Coming back to me at times that my mind isn't occupied, always accompanied by a sense of frustration and restlessness. Sometimes seasoned with a hint of panic.

And then there is what speaks against acting on those thoughts. That it would hurt those people who care. This is what has been holding me back for years now, ever since I quit the whole self-harm thing. I've been carefully avoiding everything I did back then, hobbies, a certain set of friends and interests, but most of all a certain feeling, a certain mood.

This mood is like standing on the edge of a cliff. It's a high point, it's a happy feeling, but I can where the cliff ends and where the fall begins and I know where the fall ends – if I'm lucky and it's the same cliff. If I'm even more lucky, it's a different one and the fall ends a few feet down, but who knows how lucky I will be? I don't really care for finding that out by trying.

Walking on the cliff, right on the edge, remembering and imagining and using all the energy I have is the strongest source of creativity I have ever known and experienced. It's my most productive time. It's my highest of heights. I enjoy it, I enjoy the creativity and the fun I have using it, doing things, even if that involves little sleep, no sleep at all, forgetting to eat, abandoning everything but the project I'm currently focused on. Because a part of me knows that this is not going to last. Because at some point I will slip and I will fall. It's just a matter of time.

They fear of going down there is not helping much. Fear is what makes your grip weak, your legs unsteady and what will ultimately push you down the cliff. And what do I do? Thinking of ways to cope with the fear of falling, knowing that it will make me fall, definitely fall, but without being afraid. And so far, I still know that this is stupid. And I will probably always know that it is stupid, but what if at some point the fear is going to be stronger than reason? What if at some point I have a reason against reason?

It could be anything that ultimately pushes you down. Any bad experience hitting a little too close to home. Nothing happened to me. I didn't mess up anything, I didn't get into trouble. I didn't...  **I did not lose anyone.** I know that right now I don't have a reason to do anything of that kind, but I am also aware of the fact that if I had a reason, if I could find one, no matter what it was, I would do it. And I cannot rely on not having a reason. I have to rely on myself. But what do I do if I can't keep a promise to myself?

_ To be asking these questions is a weakness that a part of me is not sure I should allow myself. Much less showing this to anyone. What will people think of me? What will they do? _

_ I should get back to work. _

“I should get back to work”, Tony repeated, muttering to himself. “This is stupid.”

He pushed the small, black book from him as though it was poisonous, something sick, something contagious. With a glare down at it, Tony came to his feet, stretching the kinks out of his back. He had been kneeling on the floor, the diary resting on the couch where he had left it after Steve had given it to him and he had barely moved it since then. Even now it did not show any signs of its recent handling.

“Stupid.” Rubbing a hand over his face, the other one unconsciously pressed against the centre of his chest, as though the light was his physical and mental strength flowing out of his body and he was trying to somehow keep it inside. Tony considered just laying down, feeling exhausted, but then he shook his head. The project. He had something to work on.

Work helped.

* * *

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like happy endings. I'm sorry.  
> Again, I recommend listening to "You were a House on Fire" by Listener.


End file.
